


Things Are Changing

by sociallychallengednerd



Series: ZENYATTA IS A MULTIFACETED CHARACTER WITH EMOTIONS [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Genji is still in bikini armor, M/M, Pre-Slash, Tekhartha Zenyatta-centric, no betas we die like mne, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 15:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13103565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sociallychallengednerd/pseuds/sociallychallengednerd
Summary: A take on how Zenyatta might take word of Mondatta's death.My continued exploration of a more multifaceted and realistically emotional Zenyatta.





	Things Are Changing

It had been hours since the news had hit. Within minutes it was everywhere; breaking news on every news channel. Genji had been at the store when the story broke, he might be a good seventy percent metal but did still have to eat sometimes. He had been caught in an internal debate over whether a few apples were worth the outrageous price. Surprisingly being a traveling spiritualist didn't make great money, and while Zenyatta and he both took whatever odd jobs they could find for a bit of cash there was only so many opportunities out there for two apparent omnics. Thankfully neither of them had many monetary needs to see to, but countless operations had left Genji’s stomach surprisingly sensitive to chemicals and processed food. That meant that Genji was stuck in this crappy whole foods in some shitty part of Paris debating if a few apples were worth the risk of not having enough for a place to sleep for the next few night if something came up. Genji’s eyes were caught by the telescreen hanging in the corner. ‘Omnic Rights Activist Killed’. A sinking feeling settled in his gut as Genji quickly pulled out his phone to have his fears confirmed. At the top of his news feed, ‘Shambali Leader Assassinated at Omnic Rights Rally’. Genji could do nothing more than stare at his screen for a long moment. Mondatta was dead. Glancing at the timestamp showed that the article had been released two hours ago. Fuck, Zenyatta. 

Genji abandoned his cart, just turned and ran. They had spent the last week staying in a seedy motel room with only one single bed that Zenyatta had repeatedly insisted Genji take while he sat himself up to recharge on the threadbare couch. It had only been about a ten minute walk from there to the store. Genji made it back in six. He was sure he looked crazy, a bright green lit omnic running through the streets dodging around people and cars. He didn't care. Right now he had to get back to Zenyatta, make sure he was alright. Some traitorous part of him hoped that Zenyatta had already heard. Genji didn't think he could bare to look at those merrily dancing blue light on his face plate and tell him his mentor, his brother was dead. 

Genji couldn't get the key card out fast enough. It took a few tries for him to manage to fumble the door open, and when he did Genji almost wished he hadn't. The room was trashed. The lamp that had been on the bedside table now lay broken on the floor. It looked like someone had emptied out the continents of the now turned over mini fridge and shattered the overpriced tiny alcohol bottles against the walls. One of them seemed to have shattered the pictured that hung over the bed raining glass down on the mattress. Tables were overturned and the drawers had been ripped out of the dresser and flung across the room, but there was no Zenyatta. Genji didn't make a sound as he closed the door behind him carefully stepping over the carnage to survey the room. It looked like a tornado had been through here. It reminded him of the time Jesse and he had returned from a mission to find their safe house had been tossed. Reyes had been on the plane for extradition himself, beyond furious that they had been sloppy enough to be spotted. 

The bathroom door was cracked and Genji could see through the gap that the mirror had been shattered. He moved with cautious steps the sound of scraping glass as he pushed open the door echoed through the deafening silence. For a moment he almost didn't notice Zenyatta sitting silent in the bathtub. His lights were so dim that for a moment Genji thought he might have shut down, but there was a faint blue glow almost completely washed out by the harsh bathroom fluorescents and disguised in the hang of Zenyatta’s head. 

“He's gone.” Zenyatta’s voice was overlaid with harsh static as if he had shouted and screamed until his voice box threatened to short. He didn't look up just stared down at his hands resting limply at his sides. 

“I know.” Genji answered. 

“They killed him.” Genji had never heard his master sound so lost. 

“I know.” He dropped to sit on the edge of the tub, and Zenyatta finally lifted his head to look at him. 

“Is this all pointless, Genji? This fight for equality, all it achieves is more violence. Mondatta is dead, and for what?” Zenyatta’s head turned away again, and Genji could feel his heart breaking in his chest. “Maybe they are right about us. Cold metal is no comparison for skin and flesh and blood. I do not have a heart; perhaps I do not even have a soul. I am not human, and I never will be, nor am I anything close. I am circuitry and wires. I feel because I was programed to, does that make it genuine?” Zenyatta cocked his head raising his hand to clinch his fingers. Beautiful, deceptively delicate machinery scuffed and dented from his raging that whined softly at the mirror shards stuck in the joints. Genji reached out taking Zenyatta’s hand in both of his. 

“Do not talk like that. I can't bare to hear you talk about yourself like that.” He couldn’t stand to see such a hopeful, caring soul as his Master’s broken by this. Genji ran his fingers over Zenyatta's brushing away some of the glass from his joints. “Zenyatta you… You're-” 

Genji huffed a frustrated breath and stood pulling Zenyatta's gaze back up to him. Genji quietly manhandled the small robot into place slipping into the tub behind him. Without a word Zenyatta relaxed back against him letting Genji wrap his arms around skinny metal shoulders. 

“When I first came to you I hated who, what, I was. I could not see myself as anything except a monster. I felt alone in the world. Most mistook me for an omnic, and I hated it. You have taught me so much. I do not hate who I am anymore. I am satisfied with my body and my life most days. I did not think that would ever be something I could achieve. I do not care that I am mistaken for an omnic, because I do not imagine it shameful to be one. You, the Shambali, are some of the best people I have met, human or omnic. Along with the other omnics we have met in our travels I would be honored to be considered one of you. I don't care that you are circuitry and metal. I don't care if you have a soul, because I know who you are Zenyatta, and that is a good man. We've done so much good helping those we've met. You've changed lives, and I think Mondatta would be proud of that. He wouldn’t want you to stop fighting.” 

Genji ran his hands over the pistons and metal of Zenyatta's shoulders and traced circles along his arms. The omnic nodded brokenly twisting onto his side to curl further into Genji's arms his voice box letting out an awful metallic keening noise that grated with static. It was a terrible, soul wrenching noise, and all Genji could do was hold his friend tighter. This beautiful omnic that had pulled him up from his own misery and gave him a life worth living. His sweet, silly sense of humor; his kind heart; his selfless charity. Through their travels their friendship had only deepened. Genji had gotten to see Zenyatta's doubts, his fear, his passive aggressive irritation hidden under a well of patiences. Genji loved him, deeply. More deeply than he had ever loved before. It sat like a weight in his chest that made it hurt to look at him sometimes. He would do anything he could for Zenyatta and it would still never be enough to repay him for all the he did for Genji, but he would never stop trying, because just getting to be at Zenyatta's side meant everything.

So Genji held his friend tight to his chest while he keened and cried until his voice box gave out, and he shook till he didn't have any energy left. Tomorrow Genji would carefully clean the glass from Zenyatta's finger joints before they would hastily leave the motel before the damage could be discovered, and Genji would not feel bad after the rude treatment they got when first checking in. Zenyatta however would leave an apologetic note for the mess and what money they could spare on the bed, but that would be later. For now they sat curled around one another in a tiny bathtub with chipping porcelain in a shady motel in a bad part of Paris mourning the death of a friend, a mentor, and a brother until their bodies didn’t have the strength to continue


End file.
